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<title>War of Attachment by Preciosass20</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24446035">War of Attachment</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Preciosass20/pseuds/Preciosass20'>Preciosass20</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, POV First Person, and a bit of self-deprecation, and also kind of unrequited, kind of a worship fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:56:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>649</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24446035</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Preciosass20/pseuds/Preciosass20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I've always watched him when I had the opportunity. When he perched himself on my desk, flicking through important papers, and nonchalantly, absentmindedly crossed his legs my mouth would go dry.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Levi/Erwin Smith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>War of Attachment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I thrust into him and he sighs, a soft sound of satisfaction as he shifts graciously against the white cotton sheets. He's so beautiful I don't know what to do with myself, adoring the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. I can't believe I can make him feel like this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I thrust again, going deeper, and his hands on my sides curl loosely against my skin and I shiver. He's already come, his cooling release sticky between our stomachs. I groan, fully aware my sounds of pleasure are destined to always be lesser than his.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His brow crease momentarily as I set a steady but slow pace, and I know it's in pleasure, his mouth falling slightly open. His lips are glossy from our last kiss, his eyes closed in relaxation, and, - I hope for myself- trust.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I lean down to press a gentle kiss to his collarbone, and he smells so fucking amazing I feel another shiver run down my spine. The simple fact that he's here, beneath me in my bed is enough to make me tremble.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I've always watched him when I had the opportunity. When he perched himself on my desk, flicking through important papers, and nonchalantly, absentmindedly crossed his legs my mouth would go dry. I'd imagine to touch those thighs with my unworthy, sweaty hands and my dreams could live on that for days, almost weeks. I'd always imagined slipping my hands under his jacket, embracing his warm chest and feel his heart flutter under his skin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Simple things such as his body heat could have me lightheaded whenever he touched me, his scent could drive me mad and his voice could order me to take my life and I'd do it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He lets out a gasp suddenly, eyes opening slightly, and I realize I've picked up the pace. He glances hazily up at me, dark eyes clouded with pleasure and contentment, and seems to see something he enjoys. His gorgeous eyes falls closed again and his back arches to give me a better angle.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I grunt and claw my hands in the sheets on either sides of his shoulders, knowing I'm close but I don't want this to end. When it has, he'll exchange polite sentences with me, dress himself and leave. Perhaps gently caress my cheek with his fingertips.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I hope he will. I really do.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I give up regret in favour of pleasure, my thrusts harder and deeper, and his breathing goes shallow, as if I'm pushing the air from his lungs each time I rock his hips against the mattress.</p>
<p>I feel the sweat breaking out on my skin and I shift my angle again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He claws at my side with a quiet whine and I know this is where I should be, even though he's so sensitive after his orgasm, the way he holds on to my skin is a clear message.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I pant like an animal the moments before I come, and I might moan his name when I finally do, but I don't know and I honestly don't care.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When I regain my senses, I've fallen to my elbows above him, and my head is on my trembling arm. Slowly I raise my head, and he's softly smiling at me, a gentle, tired gesture. He shifts then, and I realize I should pull out and my hipbone is probably hurting his thigh.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I move myself off him, trying to wipe the flush off my face even though it's useless. He slowly sits up, his silky hair hardly messy but his eyes glows of sex in such a way I just want to grab his hair and kiss him breathless.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He smiles at me, a thanking smile almost, as he heaves himself up and heads for the bathroom, his walk slightly uncomfortable. I look after him and I can't understand why he comes back to me.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
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